


Intimacy

by VZG



Category: Inglourious Basterds (2009)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, War Era, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-19
Updated: 2009-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-16 04:52:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VZG/pseuds/VZG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's not a lot of meaning to the Basterds lives beyond making good on their promise to kill a whole heck of a lot of Nazis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intimacy

The thing was, it wasn't supposed to mean anything. It just so happened that of the ten of them three were willing to get theirs with other men instead of loose French girls and whores — not that they didn't go after those from time to time, too. It just gave them more opportunity to unload their tensions onto other bodies, when, say, Donny couldn't whack a Nazi with his bat, or Utivich couldn't meticulously slice off a scalp with his sharp eyes. As for Aldo, he didn't get tense. Tense had left his skin some fifteen years before the Germans had entered France, around the same time he'd been hung up over a tree. Still, sometimes he got an itch about him, something he couldn't quite scratch on his own, which didn't seem to have any origin but found its home in the sweat of his men.

In spite of that, the carnal, primal nature of it, it seemed to Aldo Raine like their little arrangement had come to have some kind of purpose to it beyond keeping Sergeant Donowitz from knocking off Hirschberg's head. He didn't notice it right away, so when exactly the flip came he couldn't be sure, but there it was.

It was a quiet night following a quiet day, one in a series of days that left them all feeling a bit restless and eager for the taste of blood. The itch had come to him, and after the fire had died down and even Stiglitz was snoring, he'd gotten up as soundlessly as he could and nudged the nearest of the two — Donny, as it happened — with the toe of his boot.

Donny pried one eye open, catching his gaze quick and slowly processing something. Aldo had no idea what it was; the thoughts of his staff sergeant were usually beyond him, unless they were the quick, in the moment thoughts that had to do with getting as much gray matter out of as many skulls as possible.

Donny understood him, anyway, that much was clear. Aldo made his way a little distance from the camp, just out of the clearing, and Donny followed, a looming, almost ghostly presence behind him.

Aldo thought that maybe it was some screwed up respect for their military superior that made Donny and Utivich let him direct the way they fucked, but he didn't bring it up. It worked well enough for him, and he figured if they settled into it so easily he couldn't mind much anyway.

All it took was dropping his pants and leaning against a sturdy tree and Donny had the message. Of course, Donny probably already had an idea of it before he'd even gotten up, but they had variation enough that there was room for questioning just what the details were going to be. His itch was very particular that night, which Donny seemed to have no problems with.

They'd taken to scraping up any sort of gelatinous substance they could get their hands on for their arrangement, but most of them didn't match up to even the lousiest sort of proper lubricant, so Aldo was pleased to find Donny had some on him. The first of his fingers pressing in was thick enough to satisfy just a little, but it was never meant to be about slow and teasing pressure, about drawing it out, so he pressed back against Donny's hand and demanded more with a grunt. He got what he asked for, and though Donny seemed to think for a moment about using a third finger, he must have realized Aldo wouldn't have wanted it.

The first thrust in was where any sort of slowness between them laid; so long as Donny pressed hard and rough, if the slide was slow and drawn-out it worked just as well as a quick jab, and as it tended to do less damage that way it seemed preferable in any case. After that, Donny paused for just a second, exhaling loudly right there in his ear. Aldo gripped the tree in front of him harder, almost enjoying the way the bark bit into his palms, and felt for a moment like he was trapped in that moment just before the first shot went off in a battle.

Then Donny drew back, and there were no more thoughts like that.

The hard, quick thrusts Donny seemed to have mastered over the months they'd been in France blew out the lieutenant's mind, and if it weren't for the fact that he had Kagan on watch he'd never have let Donny near his ass, knowing how vulnerable it made him. There was such a pleasure to it, focused on the way Donny's appreciable cock pushed into him and rubbed against that fantastic part of him, the way his rough, dirty nails dug just slightly into the exposed skin on his hips, that he didn't hear the footsteps coming up on them.

From Donny's lack of surprise, he guessed it was just him, and in any other situation he might've actually gone so far as to have felt a bit ashamed about being caught in so compromising a situation, but it felt so damned _good_ , and, as it turned out, their spectator wasn't unwanted.

He couldn't make out the look on Utivich's face in the dark, but it wasn't likely to be much different from any other time they'd been together at night: calm, his face not telling of his arousal except in the slight slack of his jaw, his lips just a little bit parted, and in the flaring of his nostrils. He was unlike both Aldo and Donny in that way, restraining himself when he was supposed to be doing something for pleasure, but he seemed to get enough out of it to keep coming back, anyway.

"C'mere," Aldo growled when Utivich didn't step closer right away. He heard more than saw him hesitate, his eyes still mostly focusing on the tree in front of him, but soon enough the private was within arm's reach, and Aldo spared one arm's support to drag him into their mess, pressing him between his body and the tree.

He reached down, cupping Utivich's erection for just a moment before fumbling his pants open, Utivich's own hands getting in the way as they tried to do it together. Utivich's breathing was louder than either of theirs, and he couldn't hold back a groan when Aldo grabbed his dick, jerking him roughly until he was completely hard. He let go then, allowing Donny's increasingly rough thrusts to push him into Utivich, making them rut together like they just couldn't help themselves, cocks caught between their bodies and against each other.

Aldo couldn't have asked for more, and so he let his eyes close, just enjoying the feel of being thoroughly fucked by Donny and the friction of Utivich. It wasn't until he started to feel like he was near coming that he noticed something that seemed just a little strange — like he was somehow disconnected from the bodies he was sandwiched between. He opened his eyes to find that even though Utivich's left hand was fisted in Aldo's own jacket, his eyes weren't on him at all, but looking over his shoulder. The way he was, it was impossible to tell if Donny had even noticed Utivich looking at him, but Aldo guessed he had.

Donny came like that, fucking Aldo hard while Utivich stared at him, his own hips pumping against Aldo's. Utivich's right hand was on Aldo's hip, the tips of his fingers just barely laid over the back of Donny's.

He didn't pull back right away, and Aldo could feel his breath on his shoulder. Suddenly Donny was the voyeur, like Utivich had only just recently been, watching as he and Aldo rubbed themselves off against each other, frantic in their need to get off. It was sloppy, like any time when they three got together at once, but it worked, and Aldo came with a groan. Utivich wrapped a hand around himself, pushing Aldo just far enough away to move his hand.

His eyes were downcast, staring unfocused at some point around their feet, but Donny didn't budge, didn't give him any sort of privacy or allow Aldo to, either. Not that Aldo minded looking; there was some pleasure to be had in knowing whoever you were fucking around with got off, too. It just seemed a bit like Utivich minded, though he didn't budge or pause. He came with a gasp, close enough to Aldo to splatter his thigh, and Donny's hand dragged through the mess before they started on cleaning themselves up and getting their clothing in order. They went back one by one, first Donny, then Utivich, and then Aldo.

He almost expected to see them still up, heads tilted together in hushed conversation or the like, but when he got back to camp and squinted into the darkness he could make out the lines of their bodies atop their own bedrolls.

\---

For all his cursing and showing off in front of the Nazis, Donny wasn't the mouthy type. He preferred to be imposing and silent, knew it kept up the air about him that kept them calling him a golem all the way back to Germany, and in spite of his own particular Boston-bred way with words, he wasn't a conversation man. Each of the Basterds knew as soon as they met him that he'd rather be hitting something than philosophizing. Sure, he could keep up his end of any of their talks, a skill he'd needed as a barber, but he wasn't the sort to seek out anything meaningful through words.

So Aldo didn't bother to hide his surprise when Donny sat himself next to him during breakfast one day and opened his mouth as if he really had something of import to say.

"How d'you think Utivich is doing?" he asked. He wasn't looking at Aldo, like he cared so much what he thought, or at Utivich, like he had some kind of worry about him, but just stared at his food as he shoveled it into his mouth. Nonetheless, his tone was a bit off, sort of too casual to be really careless.

Aldo looked down at his own meal. It was the same shit they'd been eating for months, more or less — canned, half-cold, and nearly tasteless. It could wait. "I think he's doin' fine. Course, I wasn't the one who thought he wouldn't survive 'gainst a Nazi. You got an issue with him again?"

Donny looked up at him them, just for a moment, chewing carefully. "Who says I had an issue with him before?"

Aldo snorted. "You kept tellin' me you didn't want a pansy like him on any team of yours. Said you thought he'd faint at the sight of blood or some shit like that."

"Eh, words." Donny shook his head. "That was Sicily. I hadn't even met the guy. On paper he doesn't look like much of a killer."

"You didn't seem to take well to him after we got back, either. Looked to me like you were waitin' for him to die when we got out here, in fact."

Donny waved his fork through the air dismissively. "That wasn't an issue, that was reality. Somebody's gotta bite it first; makes sense it'd be the little guy."

Aldo didn't bother dignifying that sort of bullshit with a response. If Donny wanted to talk himself in circles — or pick a fight — he could jabber at one of the others. He went back to eating.

It seemed Donny wasn't finished, though. "Besides, it wasn't like I thought this was really gonna happen when we were in Sicily. You kept on talking like it was already real."

"You seemed to believe it enough," Aldo said through a mouthful of beans. "Wouldn't have pulled it off if you didn't."

"I did, eventually. But when we were first looking at the details I was still just interested in fucking you."

Aldo choked slightly, but managed to keep from looking around. After he wiped his mouth, he said, "Excuse me?"

Donny smirked, amusement shining in his eyes. "Don't act so goddamn surprised, Aldo. It's not like we've got those kind of secrets anymore."

Sure they didn't. And yeah, they'd screwed a few times before Aldo had managed to get everything together for them to go back and get the boys together, but it'd still just been to him then what it was that very morning: relief. The girls had been more plentiful around there, but he'd been serious about getting into France from the start and didn't have time to waste on romancing some pretty little things.

"It was like a dream, then," Donny said, sounding strangely wistful. "Really getting in here? I wanted it, sure, but I didn't think we'd have much choice but to do what we were doin'."

Aldo went quiet again. He hadn't a fucking clue what was going on between Donny's ears, and didn't want to waste time trying to figure it out. If he needed to know, Donny would tell him.

"So," Donny said, setting his plate and fork aside at last, "you really think Utivich doin' all right?"

Aldo looked over at Utivich, who was picking at his own food without much enthusiasm. He was a small, quiet, intellectual type, but he took pride in the way the scalps he handed over were cut, and even when they could practically hear his heart beat hard in his chest he marched on good as any of them.

And for whatever reason, Donny wanted Aldo to give his approval of him. He felt like Utivich was a kid they were scrutinizing, but he wasn't sure just who was meant to be his father.

"He's doin' fine, like I said."

\---

Two nights later Aldo could hear Donny rustling around, and he nearly expected to be nudged by a boot. Instead, he heard those heavy footsteps move carefully around and away from him, and when he opened his eyes he could just make out what had to be the shadows of him and Utivich. He thought about following them out of the clearing they were camped in, but they stopped just at its edge.

They weren't talking, but they moved close like they were. Their faces were in nearly complete darkness, and what he could see of the rest of them wasn't moving much. They couldn't have been a foot away, and Aldo would've sworn he could heard Utivich's breathing again.

Whatever they'd meant to happen was suddenly aborted, though, when Utivich turned abruptly and walked deeper into the trees. Aldo didn't worry much; Donny joined him quickly, and not far off Wicki was on watch.

He thought again about joining them, but decided against it.

His hand was probably good enough company for him anyway.


End file.
